‘No. As I said, I am weary. Though I do not desire it, I will kill these rude creatures if necessary. Ask this woman what afflicts the camp beyond? There is an Azathanai there. I can feel it. I believe the Jhelarkan celebrate the return of their ancient benefactor.’

‘Only you would call celebration an affliction.’ K’rul turned back to the woman. ‘My companion and I regret our trespass. We are but travelling through, seeking the shores of the Vitr. Even so, if Farander Tarag is in the camp beyond, we would pay our respects to our Azathanai kin.’

The woman scowled. ‘Farander Tarag has severed all ties to the Azathanai. Divided in perpetuity, they now embrace the wild, and join us in the ancient glory of the beasts. They will not greet you as kin. Begone, both of you.’

K’rul grunted in surprise. ‘A D’ivers ritual? Farander has reached back far indeed.’

Skillen Droe clacked his serrated jaws to signal something, perhaps contempt. ‘Farander Tarag always was something of a narcissist. This does not surprise me and nor should it surprise you, K’rul. Who else could suffer Farander’s company but Farander? Oh, and these blunt-browed creatures. The wild yields little of value to the mind capable of imagining beyond the horizon. The Jheleck are now benighted, sealing their fate.’

K’rul sighed. To the woman, he said, ‘Very well. Alas, my companion is too weary to fly, and so we can do nothing but walk. You cannot kill us, so enough of that nonsense. But be assured we will give wide berth to your encampment.’

The woman snarled, and then veered into her wolf form. Re-joining her kin, she wheeled with them and loped off to return to the pack.

K’rul glared at Skillen Droe. ‘Were your words only for me, Skillen?’

‘Of course not. What value a threat unheard?’

‘I see now how your poor manners invite discord.’

‘Your observation baffles me. I was nothing but polite, insofar as such a thing is possible when contemplating murder. Was my regret not palpable?’

‘No, not really.’ Shaking his head, K’rul set off again, this time angling westward to take them clear of the encampment. Skillen Droe strode at his side, wings folded once more.

‘The Tiste will know trouble should they attempt to invade Jheleck lands again. Of course, the ferocity of the wild knows little cunning, beyond what nature provides. In the hunt there is necessity. In defence of the defenceless, or of oneself harried into a corner, there is desperation. Neither feeds the vagaries of war.’ He clacked his jaws again. ‘Their retreat shall be endless, I predict, across every realm, age upon age. The wild can do nothing but die.’